


Reading Between The Lines

by chromatic_78



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Original Character(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromatic_78/pseuds/chromatic_78
Summary: Jen manages to get her younger sister, Grace, a job in the IT department of Reynholm Industries.  What starts out as a typical office job turns into something much stranger once she finds out what's behind the red door.





	Reading Between The Lines

The man on the phone said there was nothing left, they hadn’t gotten there in time and the only saving grace was that there was no one inside. A microwave fire, he said, they’ve had four this month alone. I hotly suggested that if the emergency number wasn’t so damn long these things might not happen so often.  
All those times I wished my office building was burn down or explode or suddenly materialize, I never really meant it.  
I pick up the landline and dial my sister’s number. She was always better in a crisis. “Grace?”  
“Jen, yeah it’s me,” I explain the whole mess to her and she sighs — not an annoyed sigh, more of a I’m-formulating-a-plan sigh.  
“Alright, love, I’ll see what I can do. Call you back.”  
I swear it’s not even a full minute after I hang up that she’s calling again to tell me that Reynholm Industries, where she just started working, has an open position.  
“It’s in IT,” her voice gets quiet.  
“IT? Jen, for god’s sake, I don’t even know what it stands for.”

I hate first days, first impressions, first dates, first everythings. There’s so much unnecessary pressure to appear better in this one instance than you ever will following it. I’m early, I think, when I walk into the front lobby it’s just me and two women at the front desk. One is blonde and the other is a redhead. I go for the redhead, less intimidating, and she directs me up to the 30th floor.  
The elevator ride takes a suspiciously short amount of time and features some very odd electronic music, but either way I make it to what I’ve been told is Mr. Reynholm’s office. Before I can knock the door swings open and I’m confronted with a slightly pudgy, average looking man with long hair and a sweater at least a size too small.  
“Another Barber,” he ushers me inside and closes the door, “Even more enticing than the last,” I swear he purrs at the end of this sentence.  
“Yes, I’m Jen’s younger sister, Grace.”  
“Brandy?” he pulls a bottle and two glasses out of his desk.  
“It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”  
He pauses and places the bottle on the desk, “Twelve minutes past, actually.”  
“I think I’m supposed to be down in IT,” I say.  
“Fine, get on then,” he rolls his eyes in a way that strikes me as incredibly unprofessional, “But expect to see me again, and soon.”

The ride down to the basement in unexplainably long, and when I finally reach the floor the door sticks and I have to jimmy myself out with some difficulty. There’s only one open office, so I take a deep breath, smooth my skirt, and step inside.  
“Hi, I’m Grace—” I start, but a foam dart hits me square in the chest.  
The man holding the smoking plastic gun, so to speak, is somewhat scraggly looking. “Uh sorry, thought you were Jen,” he hurriedly apologizes and I toss the dart back to him.  
“it’s alright. I’m her sister, actually, the new girl.”  
“I read that mixing up your work life and your personal life is never a good idea,” the other man, more put together than the last, pipes up.  
I laugh, but his expression stays stagnant, “Well, I guess we’ll all find out  
together.”  
At that very moment Jen comes rushing through the door and shouts my name. We chat for a minute, catching up and whatnot, while the men look on with blank faces.  
“Oh my god, I almost forgot,” she says, “This is Roy,” and the scraggly one who shot me earlier waves, a goofy smile breaking across his face.  
“Pleased to meet you,” I think he’s exaggerating his Irish accent a little.  
“And this is Moss,” Jen motions to the other man, who pushes up his glasses.  
“We’ve already spoken. Hello, Grace.”  
Jen shows me over to the third empty desk, situated nicely in the corner near a very small, very dirty window. I’ve always liked having my own space, a little piece of a big office to put my own kitschy calendars and potted plants. Before she leaves I pull her aside and lower my voice, “Jen,” I don’t quite know how to begin, “What exactly is my job here?”  
She laughs, “Hon, I barely know what mine is.”  
“We’re not sure either,” Roy chimes in.

Roy’s hunched over his cell phone with a pair of pliers and a dozen other tools i don’t recognize muttering about voice recognition. “Hey, do you guys want to go for lunch?” I say, trying to sound casual and not at all like I’m desperately trying to make a good impression. They both obviously fond of Jen, but she’s always been the friendlier, less awkward one.  
“No thanks, Grace,” Moss pulls out a brown paper bag from his desk drawer.  
Roy groans, “Don’t get him started.”  
“The restaurants around here all fall short in one of two categories: food or cleanliness. My house, on the other hand, is very clean and I make an excellent ham sandwich.”  
I decide against pressing the issue further.  
Roy starts yelling commands at his phone while Moss opens the most perfectly wrapped sandwich I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure if I should comment or keep my mouth shut when Jen comes out of her office and asks if anyone wants take-away. 

“So, it’s just the two of you?” I ask, “IT for this whole building?”  
We’re all typing away at our desks, but I suspect everyone is getting as little work done as I am.  
“Yep, heart and soul of Reynholm Industries, us two,” Roy says.  
“Actually,” Moss interjects, “It’s the three of us.”  
“Of course, Jen,” I add, reminding myself that it’s just my first day.  
Moss laughs stiffly, but sincerely, “Jen? No, she doesn't know a thing about computers. I meant Ri—”  
“Moss!” Roy cuts in and Moss looks quietly back at his monitor.  
I feel like I’m missing an inside joke, so I go back to my own work and try to forget about it. I start fantasizing about all the little trinkets and knick-knacks I’m going to put on my desk, and I can’t help but notice what a mess the rest of the office is. I make a mental note to clean up a bit before I leave; I can’t stand a mess and it might be a good way to rack up some points with the guys.

A look at the clock reveals that it’s already 4:30. I’m surprised, it feels like I’ve only been here a couple of hours. Jen appears in the doorway to her office and grins at me, “Got any plans tonight?”  
“Dinner with Kevin.”  
Roy looks up all of the sudden and Jen groans theatrically, “Kevin—most boring man I’ve ever met, I swear.”  
“He’s really not that bad,” I try to sound confident, but it doesn’t come out right.  
“For god’s sake, he practically gave me an accounting course before I had time to introduce myself.”  
Roy laughs and even Moss gives a chuckle. Kevin isn’t the most adventurous or outgoing, but he’s practical and nice and he’s always right on time to everything.  
The guys start to pack up their things and get their coats from the rack, Jen follows. “You coming?” Jen asks.  
“I just have to finish one thing, go on without me.”  
The three of them head out and I’m left in the empty office. Dinner’s not until 7:00, so I start to tidy the area around my desk. There are a bunch of big, ugly boxes full of wires and magazines piled into a corner, but that’ll have to wait for another day. I write a small list of things to pick up at the store later tonight before I realize that I’m stalling. I’m not a snoop, I don’t just go through other people’s things all the time. Either way I find myself taking a lap around the office, just looking at Roy and Moss’ desks, peeking into Jen’s office. It’s not weird, I tell myself.  
I’ve wasted a good half hour, so I figure I should get going. On the way out I make sure to turn out the lights. I pause in the dark doorway for a moment, rummaging around in my bag for my phone. Something creaks, maybe a loose floorboard or a door, in the room behind me and my heart races suddenly. I go quickly to the elevator, wiping my palms on my skirt once inside, cursing myself for being so childish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far in the comments, or what you think will happen next.


End file.
